


Real?

by cougarlips



Series: STiL au [1]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Dissociation, Hurt No Comfort, Memory Loss, POV Cloud, POV Third Person, Past Character Death, Past Relationship(s), Repressed Memories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-11 03:00:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7873600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cougarlips/pseuds/cougarlips
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>But he felt there </i>was<i> slight progress because when he laid down to sleep at night, in his dreams he finally had a name to match the face that haunted him.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Real?

**Author's Note:**

> ahahahahAHAHA this is an excerpt from a rewrite of an au of mine from three years ago that i'm working on. since it's so removed from the overall au (which will be a modern day strifehart fic), i just wanted to share it independently, partially as a "hey look what im cooking up!" and "hey i'm branching out of my comfort zone!" kinda thing.

He’d be lying to himself if he said he hadn’t spent his every conscious second trying to force his buried memories to resurface, but to his disappointment nothing came to him except head-splitting migraines. Even when he thought of Aerith -- of everything he’d lost, missed out on, or never had -- nothing came forth.

But he felt there _was_ slight progress because when he laid down to sleep at night, in his dreams he finally had a name to match the face that haunted him.

The face belonged to the man who, since Cloud came to on the train station of Midgar, came unbidden in his mind any time he gave himself a second to breathe -- but now, Cloud knew he was real.

Now, when he closed his eyes and saw thick hair draping down a tanned man’s back, he knew he was real.

Now, when he draped himself with his blankets and felt the ghost of calloused hands on his own skin, he knew he was real.

Now, when he dissociated and saw hot blood streaming over gray skin, mixing and swirling with hot tears and cold rain, he knew he was real.

 _Zack Fair_ , he heard whispered into his mind. A real man, not a figment of his imagination or a being made of scattered and partial memories in an attempt to create someone whole.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos, comments, crits, and bookmarks literally feed my crops and clear my skin


End file.
